


Maid in Downton

by betsey_trotwood



Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Biting, Crossdressing, Fluff, Humiliation, M/M, Sexual Content, aagh how do you tag stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-01
Updated: 2015-02-01
Packaged: 2018-03-10 01:48:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3272276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betsey_trotwood/pseuds/betsey_trotwood
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jimmy dresses as a maid. But he needs a lesson in manners.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maid in Downton

**Author's Note:**

> My first foray into writing fanfiction. Any comments and/or constructive criticism would be much appreciated!
> 
> A huge thank you to tara_duchess_of_nil for checking and editing. And to her and maes for generally reading through and for their advice and encouragement <3 <3

Looking into the mirror on Thomas' dresser, Jimmy carefully straightened the frilled cap on his head. He'd allowed his waved fringe to fall artfully across his forehead, the blond hair skimming over his eyebrow. He adjusted the slightly stiff collar of his (well, not his, it had been liberated from the uniform cupboard) maid's dress, then ran his hands over the smooth fabric of his white apron. Turning this way and that, admiring himself in the mirror, Jimmy had to admit he  _did_  look rather pretty, just as Thomas had anticipated a week earlier...

* * *

Jimmy ran his hand over the soft, slightly round swell of Thomas' belly, covered by his white undershirt. He peeked up at him shyly. A sudden look of determination, as if he were steeling himself for something, flashed across his face and he blurted out "There's something I want to do -"

He paused mid-sentence, mouth slightly open, lowering his eyes to where his hand came to rest on the curve of Thomas' lower stomach. 

"It's odd but I - I can't stop thinking about it and I -"

Jimmy paused again. His face was an odd mixture of embarrassment, confusion and desire and his cheeks were tinged with pink, a shade that deepened under Thomas' gaze.

"Go on, Jimmy... it's alright. What is it?" Thomas raised his hand from Jimmy's waist to stroke his warm cheek with the backs of his fingers, his voice low and gentle.

"What do you want to do? Tell me."

Jimmy tugged awkwardly at Thomas' shirt, balling it in his fist, staring at it intently. He dropped his head onto Thomas' chest and buried his face there, his free hand coming up to rest nearby.

"Never mind," he mumbled into Thomas' shirt, "it's stupid", in such a small, forlorn voice that the small smile on Thomas' face dropped immediately. He wrapped his arms around Jimmy, pulling him into his chest, and rubbed a reassuring hand against his back. Jimmy could feel Thomas' chest vibrate as he spoke.

"Come on Jimmy, I'm sure it's not stupid. Tell me - the worst that'll happen is that I won't want to do it." He placed a soft kiss on the top of Jimmy's head. "Which is not likely."

"Promise you won't say it's disgusting? Or laugh?"

"Of course not. I promise."

Jimmy raised his head to look into Thomas' soft blue-grey eyes. The severe, formal face that everyone else saw was nowhere to be seen. Thomas was looking down at him with such tenderness, such a sweetly caring and reassuring smile, that it made Jimmy's chest ache. That soft smile was so beautiful, but Jimmy was going to ask him for something very different.

"Alright. I trust you. Let's sit down though - it might take a long time to explain." He took Thomas' hand and led him to his bed, where they sat side by side, their feet on the floor. Jimmy kept Thomas' hand in his, resting on Thomas' right leg, interlocking their fingers and placing his other hand on top to stop himself fidgeting. He kept his eyes on their entwined hands, taking a deep breath.

"I... want you to hurt me. I want you to be cruel. Be  _rough_  with me. I want... I want to look in the mirror and see scratches and bite marks and  _bruises_  and know that you did that to me." His last sentence came out in a rush. Jimmy could feel his cheeks reddening and his cock growing hard just speaking the words. Thomas' grip on his hand tightened, and Jimmy looked up nervously to gauge his reaction. With great relief he saw that Thomas didn't look shocked or disgusted at all: instead, his previously pale cheeks were tinted pink and his face was calm, but for the fact that he was biting his lower lip -  something that Jimmy had long ago learned to interpret as desire.

"Oh  _Jimmy_ ," Thomas breathed. "I can do that. I can definitely do that." 

"Wait - there's more... I want to be wearing a maid's dress and apron."

Thomas' eyebrows shot up. "You what -"

"Let me finish. I understand if you don't want to do this but now I've started I want to say the whole thing. I need to get it out." Jimmy stared straight into Thomas' eyes, more confident now.

Thomas nodded. "Sorry, I was just shocked. Go on."

"I want to wear a maid's uniform, and I want you to order me around - I'm sure you'll love that bit (at this Thomas nudged him mock-indignantly) - make me clean your room or something like that. And then, maybe I do it wrong and you get angry and... that's when things get a bit rough. I've got to be disciplined or something."

Thomas' surprise had apparently worn off, as he looked down at Jimmy with a small smile. 

"It's not such a strange request, really. I suppose I was just surprised that you'd willingly wear a dress - after all, you are quite sensitive about your masculinity, Jimmy." Thomas said the last part softly, slightly tentatively, as if he was worried Jimmy would be offended by his words. But Jimmy wasn't. It was true - he often felt the need to prove his masculinity to people. But since he and Thomas had become a couple he'd come to realise that society's idea of what a man should be was not all that it was cracked up to be. Nevertheless, it was hard for him to get rid of that annoyance and indignation he felt when he thought his masculinity was being challenged.

"Ah, but that's the point. I want to be humiliated, Thomas. I want you to humiliate me." It felt so good to say it aloud. He'd had this fantasy for weeks, building up the courage to tell him. Now that he had, it felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. And a small feeling of anticipation mixed with surprise was starting to grow - it seemed that his fantasy could well become a reality quite soon.

"Well, I rather like the idea. I think you'll look very pretty in that get-up."

For a while they discussed exactly what Jimmy wanted to happen; how they would obtain a maid's uniform; and when they would do it. Hopefully, within a week either of them would have a chance to nab one from the maids' clothes cupboard. Then one evening they'd go up early and... get to it.

"God I can't wait," Jimmy groaned into Thomas' ear, sliding a hand up his thigh.

"Oh, Jimmy, one more thing." Jimmy pulled back.

"Although we've planned out roughly what's going to happen, with this kind of thing it's always best to have a word to say if one of us wants things to stop - if we're not comfortable with something. That way you can act reluctant without me stopping - I'll know that if you're really unhappy with what I'm doing you'll say the specific word. Or vice versa."

"Good idea. But what word?"

"Not an everyday word. God knows it'd be awkward if every time someone said 'jam' or 'kitchen' or something it reminded you of our... activities."

Jimmy chuckled. "Yes, that would be rather inconvenient, wouldn't it? Going hard when Molesley says 'pass the jam'... not ideal. So we need a word that I rarely have cause to say."

"I know - how about 'unicorn'?" Thomas suggested. "When would we ever need to say that?"

"Yeah, that'll do. Unicorn." Jimmy moved his hand back up Thomas' thigh, leaning in to kiss the soft skin of his neck and murmur into Thomas' ear: "Now that that's sorted...all this talking has gotten me excited. How about you quickly bugger me now before we go to sleep?" He stroked the head of Thomas' cock through his trousers and continued to kiss a trail down his neck to his chest.

"I'm afraid we won't be doing that, Jimmy."

"What?" Jimmy pulled back, pouting.

"That's part of the plan. It'll be hard, but we won't be fucking, or anything, until next week with the maid business." Thomas slid a hand up Jimmy's thigh and rubbed his hand tantalisingly lightly over his dick. Jimmy whimpered, arching into Thomas' hand, knowing full well that Thomas was teasing him and would not be going any further than this.

"And I don't want you bringing yourself off neither. None of that, for the next week." He leaned over to mutter in Jimmy's ear, still stroking his cock softly, unbearably so. "I want you to be gagging for it by then. Understand?"

Jimmy groaned. Going without Thomas touching him, and being banned from touching himself, for a whole week, was a very frustrating thought. Yet it was also everything he wanted. Thomas' almost cruel tone of voice as he teased him was, in Jimmy's opinion, one of the most arousing things he could do - Jimmy suspected that 'the maid business' of next week was going to be rather enjoyable indeed.

* * *

He could hear Thomas tapping his foot impatiently. A curious mixture of anticipation and a hint of fear tugged at his stomach.

On the other side of the room sat Thomas, livery jacket off, reclining in his chair. Jimmy could see him in the mirror. One leg crossed over the other, he leisurely smoked a cigarette, wearing a supercilious smile on his face. He tilted his head back, slowly releasing a plume of smoke into the air.

"Are you quite finished?"

Jimmy took one last look at himself and turned to face him. "Yes, Mr Barrow," he answered meekly.

As Thomas stood, stubbed out his cigarette and walked over, Jimmy felt the coil of anticipation in his stomach tighten. Thomas slowly walked around him in a circle, as if inspecting him, and suddenly Jimmy felt highly conscious of his body being on display. The dress was a tad too small (he'd foregone wearing a corset) and he'd tied the apron tightly, making his figure, his waist in particular, very visible. But for the knee-high stockings that Thomas had somehow managed to obtain, his feet were bare.

"My, my, Jimmy, you  _do_  look pretty." Thomas came to a halt in front of him, slowly eyeing him up and down. Jimmy's cheeks blushed a deeper shade of pink.

"Now." Thomas' face had taken on an incredibly imperious expression. "There's a dustpan and brush on the table.  Fetch it, and get to work. I want that floor clean." He spoke authoritatively, as Jimmy knew he loved to when bossing the hallboys around. And Jimmy loved it too. Thomas was in charge, and it made Jimmy's cock twitch just to hear him speak like that.

"Go on then... what are you waiting for? Get a move on."

"Yes, sorry, Mr Barrow." Jimmy bobbed his head and turned to get the dustpan and brush. He hurried over to the other side of the room and knelt on the floor, his back to Thomas, and began to sweep the small amount of dust and mud into the pan.

 He tried to concentrate on the task, but he could hear Thomas' footsteps coming towards him, then coming to a halt nearby. He was painfully aware that Thomas' eyes were most likely on his arse, sticking up slightly in the air as he diligently leaned forward and swept, moving across the floor from left to right.

The thought of Thomas' eyes on him, and the fact that he was serving Thomas by performing a chore far, far beneath him, was already making Jimmy hard. Unable to bring himself off for a whole week, and the slightest thing was enough to arouse him. Even worse, he'd been driven to distraction all week long by Thomas ordering him around, and ordering Alfred and the hallboys around in front of him - he was sure Thomas had been bossing people around even more than usual, just for his benefit. With every abrupt "quickly now" and each supercilious pout, Jimmy had found himself longing more intensely for the day to come. Now it was here he couldn't help but get hard so soon.

He had swept half the room now, and turned, slightly hot and flustered by self-consciousness and exertion, to continue with the other half. Thomas settled back into his chair, lighting another cigarette, and Jimmy swept around him. His knees and arms were getting sore, but this just aroused him more. It was strange, but the idea that he was hurting because of Thomas,  _for_  Thomas, pleased him. Jimmy couldn't hold on for much longer now. He needed to provoke him. As he finished the final corner of the room and turned to look at Thomas, he saw his opportunity. Thomas was tapping the ashes from his cigarette onto the newly cleaned floor next to his chair.

Jimmy stood. "I've just cleaned that floor and you're dropping ashes all over it? I can't believe it!" He huffed, dropping the dustpan and brush on the floor with a clatter for good measure.

"I beg your pardon?" Thomas had turned to look at him, shocked, his voice low, daring him to say another word.

"You can't just order me to clean your floor and then mess it up!"

Thomas glared and stood up, walking the short distance until he was in front of him, close enough that Jimmy could smell his cigarettes and cologne, and feel his warm breath on his cheek.

"I'm ever so sorry to burst your bubble, Jimmy," replied Thomas slowly and sarcastically, "but I. Am. Under. Butler. And you're a housemaid, so I think you'll find that I can do whatever I like. I'll accept an apology and you can sweep those ashes up."

Jimmy knew just what to say. "I'm sorry,  _Thomas_."

"That's Mr Barrow to you", Thomas countered automatically, but then his eyes narrowed as he took a step back. "You said that on purpose, didn't you?" He tutted slowly. "No. No, this just won't do. This lack of respect is unacceptable."

Jimmy was about to reply when he realised that without any undergarments, his erection must have been visible through his dress. Evidently Thomas had noticed too, as a slow, mocking smile spread across his face.

"You're getting off on this, aren't you? You dirty little wretch. You like behaving like a rude, immature little brat, don't you?"

"I'm not - "

"Oh, I'd be quiet now if I were you. I've had quite enough of your insolence. I'd spank you but I think that's what you want me to do, isn't it? I think you need something a bit more severe, hmm?" He moved to stand behind Jimmy, his body pressed hard against his back, one arm tight around Jimmy's waist, hand pressing into his stomach, and the other arm reaching down to slide his skirt up his leg, nails scratching hard lines up his thigh. His hand brushed over Jimmy's prick and Jimmy whined, bucking his hips, but then the hand was gone and Thomas had bunched his skirt in his hand and was dragging him across the room.

As they neared the other side, Thomas let go and moved so he was face to face with him, backing him towards his bed, and for a second Jimmy could feel Thomas' erection hard against his stomach before the backs of his knees hit the bed and he fell onto it. Thomas loomed over him for a moment, then knelt between his legs, pushing the skirt back up to reveal Jimmy's thighs. He spread them roughly, holding them in place, and, eyes fixed on Jimmy's, brought his head down, and pressed his teeth into the soft skin of Jimmy's pale inner thigh, nipping gently at first and then biting, making his way over his thighs, alternating dragging his teeth across his skin with hard bites that made Jimmy arch his back and press a fist into his mouth to keep from crying out. His head fell back on to the bed, and he focused on withstanding it and keeping quiet as possible as Thomas sank his teeth into him over and over again, moans of pain fading into soft cries in the back of his throat.

"Stand up."

Jimmy obeyed, shaking his head as if to clear the haze of pain and want, his legs wobbling slightly. Thomas sat down on the bed.

"Take that off." He indicated the dress and apron. Jimmy undid the apron with trembling hands as Thomas looked on, smirking. He tried to undo the buttons of his dress, but they were fiddly and his hands were unsteady. Thomas had been rougher than he'd expected - not that he was complaining - and Jimmy was flustered, to say the least. Thomas let him fumble helplessly for a few moments before motioning for him to turn round. He slowly and carefully undid the buttons, and the gentleness of this action after what he'd done to his legs struck Jimmy. It reminded him of the way that while he loved Thomas hurting him, loved feeling misused, it felt so good to know that the second he said the word Thomas would stop. He was utterly safe. Thomas was being cruel but this was all for him.

Thomas tugged Jimmy's dress down over his arms and to the floor, spinning him around to face him. He trailed the fingers of one hand lightly down his chest and stomach, following the trail of hair from below his belly button to his crotch, where he stopped.

"Hold still and stay quiet."

He gripped Jimmy's hips roughly, pulling him forward, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise and brought his head down, and oh sweet lord he was biting him again, only this time it was at the soft flesh of his belly, over and over, and he was pinching and scratching and shit Jimmy was going to cry.

He tried to keep quiet but it was no good. "Hnn, Thomas, you're hurting me," he heard himself whine, as Thomas scraped his lower teeth up over Jimmy's stomach and the stiff material on his midsection rubbed against Jimmy's cock.

"Oh God it hurts. Fuck me, please, Thomas. Oh, I can't. Pl- just fuck me." He didn't know what he was saying anymore, but it worked, and Thomas was pulling him down onto his lap and leaning over to get something; he could hear the unscrewing of the jar of petroleum jelly. His sore, tender belly rubbed against the scratchy material of Thomas' waistcoat as he desperately rubbed his aching prick against it while Thomas unzipped his trousers. Were they still playing the game? He didn't know, and didn't much care, all that mattered was Thomas' jelly-slicked fingers prodding at him, opening him up, then gripping his waist and, with a grunt, pulling him down onto him, hard. It hurt, and it felt so good to be filled after so long. He wanted to concentrate on Thomas' face but he was struggling to manoeuvre himself on Thomas' cock. Thomas moved back on the bed so that Jimmy could rest his knees either side of his thighs and fuck him properly, Thomas' nails digging into the flesh of his hips. He looked down to see that Thomas was almost as undone as him, hair falling over his sweaty brow, a high pink on his cheeks, gritted teeth, changing position to lift himself up on his hands to thrust upwards to meet Jimmy's movements in a thoroughly uncoordinated fuck. Thomas brought a hand between them to roughly stroke Jimmy's cock, and for a few prolonged moments they moved like that together, in a frantic frenzy of motion, until Jimmy caught sight of his stomach, littered with bite marks and livid red circles, and with a quick twist of Thomas' hand it was too much and he came with a cry, all over his chest and stomach, Thomas following soon after. Jimmy fell forward to wrap his arms around him and they shuddered against each other, catching their breath. Gasping, he buried his face in the crook of Thomas' neck, overwhelmed, and Thomas brought his hands up to stroke his back comfortingly.

"Are you alright?" He heard Thomas' breathless voice, soft and concerned, in his ear. 

Jimmy leaned back, supported by Thomas' arms, to look at him.

"Shit, Jimmy, you're crying." Thomas raised a hand to wipe away a tear that trickled down Jimmy's hot cheek. He leaned his face into Thomas' hand, sniffling.

"It's fine. I'm fine. I just - it got very intense. You were hurting me and I wanted you so badly..." He trailed off, unable to explain it any better. "It was good though." He grinned slowly. "That were... that were beautiful." 

Thomas smiled, reassured, and Jimmy pressed a soft kiss to his lips, before leaning back and noticing the mess he'd made of Thomas' shirt and waistcoat.

"God, your clothes are a mess. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it. It'll wash out." Thomas carefully slid Jimmy off his legs onto the bed and stood, stripping to his undershirt and drawers. He walked over to the washbasin and dampened two flannels, coming back to sit on the edge of the bed where Jimmy lay, still in a slight haze. He cleaned himself before wiping the come off Jimmy's chest, stomach and thighs with one flannel, then used the other to soothe the sting of the bite marks and scratches, gently dabbing at his stomach and thighs. Jimmy smiled contentedly, revelling in the sensation of the cold flannel on his tender skin and the silky smooth feel of the stockings on his legs as he rubbed one calf against the other.

They stayed like that for while, until Thomas put the flannels aside and lay down next to Jimmy, who turned so that they were nose to nose. Thomas' cheeks were still pink against his pale skin, bringing out the blue of his eyes framed by long black lashes. Jimmy lifted a hand to stroke his cheek.

"Thank you, Thomas," Jimmy whispered. Thomas placed his own hand over Jimmy's.

"No, thank  _you_. I don't say it enough but I've never been so happy in all my life as I am now, with you. I - I can't tell you how much it means that you trust me enough to tell me the things you want to do, and to do them." 

"Well, the fact that I  _can_  trust you means everything to me. I love you."

Thomas placed a light kiss on the end of his nose. "I love you."

Jimmy turned on his other side so that they were spooning, and reached behind him to take Thomas' hand in his own, holding it to his chest. He sighed contentedly, surrounded by Thomas' warmth. "You know, when I'm with you, especially now... I've never felt so safe and protected in my life," he mused.

They remained silent for a while and Jimmy had nearly drifted to sleep when Thomas squeezed his hand.

"Jimmy?"

"Mm?"

"Do you think there's a maid's uniform that'll fit me?"

 


End file.
